


To Care

by eelu



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Let Molly be delicate for once I beg you, M/M, Nightmares, Nott tries to help: fails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 14:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16557683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eelu/pseuds/eelu
Summary: Recurring nightmares plague Mollymauk. Caleb begrudgingly checks in on him, to find that he cares more than he realized.





	To Care

_“Em'ty… em….tee”_

_“Shh, hush, it’s alright…”_

_Light was harsh against bruised eyes. Everything glared and sparkled where spots in his vision didn’t obstruct. Red and yellow, no, gold, blended together like a spinning top, and he swayed and staggered like the drunk man he felt. Except tonight, as far as he could recall, he had not drank. Had he? Where was he? How did he get here?_

_His ass hit the floor before he could register he was falling, and quickly, strong hands gripped at his arms. Two faces drifted miles away from him, rushing by like speeding carts, but somehow steady, constant. One on each side, hoisting him up and carrying him further into the spinning top. Limp, he laughed, staring up as his head lolled back._

_“Empty, empty…”_

_His face was wet, from sweat? No, he was crying, when did he start crying? By the time he noticed it he broke into near hysterics, flailing with the last bit of energy he had left. The two sturdy sentinels holding him, set him down in a new place, in a smaller spinning top. Blue, and purple, this one blended too well. Maybe it was all just one blue. He was so heavy, his body sank into the ground beneath him._

_Do **NOT** sink do **NOT** fall into the ground, his legs kicked wildly as he thrashed, panic, the air in his lungs collapsing, his fingers hurt, stung, numb, desperate for any grasp they could dig into. His own voice lost in the ringing of his ears, shouting, screaming, the humming of the air, the thundering echoing of existence buzzing from his skin, prickling, cold, stiff and heavy. Heavy. A body held his own still and a face paler than the moon bore down above him. He exhaled as his body melted into the softness of the curtains that now cascaded down around him. The darkness felt warm but that face stayed illuminated, watching with those dizzying eyes. _

_“What is your name?”_

_The moon goddess spoke soft but her voice rang clearly like a gong. His eyes wanted to close but it only made his body spin faster. He had no answer, but to whisper his mantra._

_“Who are you?”_

_This voice was not his moon goddess, it was deep and harsh and came from behind the black curtains._

_“Empty.”_

_The room stayed silent for a minute, and the brilliantly intense face faded away behind weighted eyelids. The hold on his body was no longer there, fresh cool air touched his sweat slick skin from every angle. Exhaustion took over the hole in his chest, in his mind. The last thing heard inside the dark silken cage, so quiet it could have been his own mind if it knew how to make any other word, sent a bolt of ice through his hollowed, helpless core._

_“Good.”_

_Blackess fell like the nothingness in his chest, the slick heavy curtains billowing around him into a plane he had not dared explore before. A deprivation of his senses, panic though he could not move, he had to move. His fingernails broke clawing at the ground beneath him although he could not feel the stiffness of the dirt. His mind fought like a whipping storm, screaming and wild, but his form could not awaken. This, this had to be death. Fear and cold and lonesome and nonexistence. Floating, yet so so heavy. A weight held him down, a spike driven straight through his chest, or a brick wall fallen atop him._

_A drink too strong._

_A drug too numb._

_A dream too real._

_The screams came first, sounds of anger, horror, fighting. Colours nearly shifted through the backs of his eyelids, like a far distant glow, and yet a trick of the eye. A voice he never knew called a name he never heard, comforting yet so afraid. He was not there. He never was._

_Until suddenly_

_Light._

 

______

 

“Mollymauk- wake up.”

Another voice, separate from the two before. A familiar voice. 

“Yasha?”

“No.”

Mollymauk squinted in the dim candlelight, a figure too small to be Yasha’s hovered above him, squeezing his shoulder with just enough pressure to matter. He blinked slow, coming to, and took a deep breath into his struggling lungs, stretching them, reminding them how to function again. He let his body unclench, stiffer than he had realized, long legs and arms releasing into the coldness of the sweat-soaked sheet atop him. It was an unpleasant feeling, but not quite as unpleasant as it was to lift himself up on weak arms, pushing to sit up and lean against the headboard of the mothy bed he found himself in. 

Caleb’s light grip on his shoulder loosened, fingers slipping lightly down his arm as he sat up in bed, not quick enough to pull the hand away. Long enough, however, to feel the goosebumps rise against Mollymauk’s skin. He turned away a moment and crossed the small room, pulling a hempen quilt from the bottom of the wardrobe. Caleb unfolded it half way, spreading it out over the bottom half of the bed, covering Molly’s feet. It moved slightly where Molly’s tail swished under the sheets, the stress of the night still wound up in his limbs.

“You were having a nightmare.” Caleb stood at the foot of the bed, hands grasped around the ash wood frame of the foot board. His knuckles, sharp, tension obvious in his posture.

Molly ran his fingers through the tangle of his damp hair. “You don't say?” The snark in his words didn't quite reach his voice, which came out hushed and hoarse. “Well, I’m sorry I woke you.”

“You didn’t wake me. I was up.” Caleb didn’t move, only stood, watching, studying Molly’s face like one of his books. Focus and intensity feeling doubled by the single candlestick placed on the wardrobe, casting a dark and flickering orange glow across the both of them. It struck Molly unnerved, looking at Caleb framed by weak firelight. Something primal in Caleb flashed near flame, making his baby blue eyes appear more yellow, something more akin to Frumpkin’s piercing eyes. For a moment, Molly wondered if that was a side effect of Caleb’s familiar vision. He had never really looked, when Caleb peered through his cats eyes. But the way the wizards gaze finally broke from his face, and frowned at the irritated thrashing of Molly’s tail, he knew it was just a trick of the light. Caleb’s full and entire focus was in that room. 

Subconsciously, Molly braced himself for Caleb to grab the end of his tail. He stalked it, so much like his cat had played before, Molly expected a firm hand to slap down and stop the flicking of the tip. An anxiety pitted itself in his stomach for a moment, at the idea, before immediately releasing as Caleb promptly returned his gaze, and then turned away. 

Caleb opened the door, stepping no further than into the door frame, before stopping. Muttering could be heard, a scratchy little voice, certainly Nott’s, came from the hallway. The goblin pushed at Caleb’s hip, their harsh and hushed conversation unclear as Caleb took a shuffled step backward into the room again, and Nott’s ears could be made out from the doorway. “Oh, please-”

“Hello, Mollymauk,” Nott peered out from behind Caleb’s legs as he turned back around with his jaw set, and a tired expression. “You were shouting, so I made Caleb come see that you were okay!”

“And he is okay, _ja_?” 

Nott looked at Caleb with a piercing stare, eyebrows raised like she expected better of him. Caleb rolled his eyes, a small huff escaping his nose, as Nott turned back to Molly. “We were worried, is all.” The small goblin woman scuffled forward, hoisting herself up onto the end of the bed, her toes grabbing into the blanket laid out to help her climb up nimbly. Watching Nott move reminded Molly just how small she was. With a heart bigger than probably all of the Nein combined, and the personality to match, it was easy to forget she was only three feet tall. 

She lightly patted Molly’s foot, clearly supposed to be a comforting gesture. Caleb, uncomfortable with this predicament, folded his arms, like a shield from whatever feelings and emotions Nott was going to try and pry into. 

Mollymauk smirked, watching the odd pair interact was always entertaining. Their silent understanding of each other was admirable. Molly rolled himself onto his side, more comfortable to prop his head up on his hand to watch whatever Nott was about to get into, unfold.

“I promise you both, I am certainly fine.” Molly grinned, fatigue lidding his red eyes. The sleepy smile almost looked sincere, but both of his late night guests knew him better than that. 

Nott tucked her feet under her, adjusting to face Mollymauk. “Well you’re fine now! But what if you fall asleep again, and you have more nightmares, and then you are tired all day tomorrow, and you’re not quick or focused enough if we get into a fight, and then you die!” Her eyes bulged in anxiety behind the greasy bangs getting too long for her face. “All I’m trying to say is, if you want to talk about it, we’re here for you.” A small hand placed itself on Molly’s shin, a light pat, and an awkward rub. Molly’s face scrunched with a smirk at the odd goblin. 

“Look,” Molly placed his other hand down on the sheet in front of Nott, a gesture of honesty. “It was just a bad dream. I think we’ve all had our share of night terrors, what with all the shit we’ve seen.” Nott nodded, agreeing. “Hell, it didn’t even make any real sense, and I don’t remember much of it now anyways. But I promise you - if it becomes an issue, you’ll be the first person I’ll tell about it.” Molly glanced between Nott, lips pursed and eyes full of worry; and Caleb, tired, yet still looking like he was thinking too much.

Nott hummed in consideration, chewing her tongue until she found the words she wanted. “Alright.” She swung her legs off the side of the bed, “I’ll tell you about my dream, and then you can talk about yours. It’s good to talk about these things. If you keep them to yourself, they build up, until you burst!” Molly shut his eyes and rested heavier in his own hand. 

Caleb sighed, muttering something Zemnian under his breath as he moved forward to grab the goblins hand. “He does not want to talk about your dreams, or his own. Let’s go back to bed, please.”

“Don’t you circus people believe in dreams? What if it’s prophetic! We should know in case we have to fight off whatever you were yelling about!” Nott let herself be tugged off the bed, but did not want to drop the topic just yet. Regardless, she followed Caleb with little resistance, as he lead her out the door. 

“Good night, you two!” The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Molly alone once again. He sunk back down into his bed, a small headache growing behind his eyes. He laid in silence for a few passing moments, begging sleep to take him again. Eventually he decided it was not his fault he was uncomfortable, but that it was that he was annoyed by the flickering of the candle left aglow on his wardrobe. 

Tossing the still slightly cold sheet back, Molly climbed out of the bed to cross the creaky hardwood and grab the candle. It’s small brass finger hold was cold to the touch, something Molly could never quite expect. His mind always just wanted to assume it would be warm, as if the flame atop it would heat the whole thing up. 

He turned towards the door as a faint knock rapped against it, the knob turning before Molly even had to reply. Caleb slipped in, closing the door behind him, apology on his lips before the words even formed. 

“She worries about us. All of us.” Caleb spoke as though Molly standing in front of him in nothing but his briefs wasn’t an odd sight at stupid o’clock in the morning. To be fair, though, it wasn’t. Molly wasn’t especially conservative with his body, and they had all certainly bathed together before. So this was merely an observation. Caleb considered the briefs modest, for Mollymauk. “She wouldn’t relax until I promised her I would talk to you. I think you scared her pretty good.” 

Molly shrugged; Nott’s maternal instincts were inescapable those days. “You left your candle.” 

Caleb stepped closer, reaching out for the flame and pinching the wick between finger and thumb, plunging the dim room back into a proper darkness. 

“Hot.” Molly winked, placing the candle chamber back down on top of the wardrobe. Caleb stood still, human eyes unable to see a thing. 

“I’m not unused to the feeling of a little fire, Mollymauk.” He followed the sound of Molly climbing back into bed. Realizing he essentially screwed himself over, snuffing the light, he stood, looking between the very faint moonlit window, and where he guessed Mollymauk would be. 

_Poomf poomf poomf poomf._

Four globules of light illuminated each corner of the room, a dark, dim orange glow. Caleb could now see where Molly sat, almost catlike in the center of pillows and sheets. Regal, in a slinky, aloof sort of way. “Well, isn’t this romantic.”

Caleb snuffed a small laugh, “Do not excite yourself. I already told you, Nott sent me.” He sat on the edge of Molly’s bed, hands laid on his knees, a sudden discomfort in his posture.

Though, most of Caleb’s posture was in the range of being ‘uncomfortable’, to be fair to the description. 

Molly was never uncomfortable, kicking his feet across to the other side of the bed and grabbing a pillow to lay horizontal across the mattress, a perfect imitation of a schoolgirl at a sleepover. His tail flicked absently along with his swaying legs, bright red eyes eager to find out who Caleb thought the cutest boy at the academy was. 

In the back of his mind, Caleb would decide none of the Solstrice Academy boys ever really caught his eye in any particular way. He was so absorbed in the lessons, he gave himself no mind to even-

“Well then, shall we gossip?” Molly interrupted his thought, fully aware of the stereotype he was poking fun at with this youthful effeminate tone, and bat of his eyes. 

Caleb relaxed a little, slouching more into the mattress as he rolled his eyes at the ridiculous tiefling he somehow found himself stuck with. “We do not have to. Nott only sent me to make sure you were truly okay. And it seems you are doing just fine, Mollymauk.”

For a moment, Molly dropped his act. He considered Caleb, obviously tired, and yet still so devoted to Nott he would appease her insistence in something not nearly as dramatic as she worries. Molly relaxed into his pillows, tucking his feet under the upturned edge of the sheet, and hummed.

“Well, I’ll just tell you my entire life story and deepest traumas, and then you can tell Nott we talked, and then she’ll let us both sleep.” Molly closed his eyes, tucking his head into the pillow, adjusting the angle to account for his horn. He heard Caleb do that small airy huff of a laugh, and felt the mattress shift as he moved to get up.

Except when Molly peeked an eye open, looking to the door, Caleb wasn’t there. Instead, the dip in the mattress was Caleb lying back, feet still off the bed, bent at the knees, but he now laid with his hands clasped over his stomach, and eyes shut towards the ceiling. “Well,” He spoke quieter now, fatigue catching up to him, “Tell me.”

“Caleb, I was jok-”

“I know.” Caleb interrupted, “But that is what she is expecting. A life of whatever kind of messes you had gotten yourself into before you found us is bound to take longer than a couple of minutes to cover. So please. Tell me of these _traumas._ ” He waved a hand in the air, punctuating ‘traumas’. Not making light of the word, but to encourage a tale. Any sort of tale. Mollymauk was a master of them. And Caleb enjoyed a good story.

Getting the message, Molly sighed deeply. “Well, it all started when I was a young lad.”

“You don't remember your childhood, Mollymauk.”

“Well it must've been real bad then, hadn't it?” He chuckled.

“Then you are lucky you do not remember.”

Molly hummed, frowning. A bite to Caleb’s words warned perhaps he was was best not to dig into that one. Who was he to speak of poor childhoods? Mollymauk couldn’t imagine himself small, young, innocent. Those were not words he had ever been called. 

He closed his eyes again, reveling in the soft silence of the room. Like this, he could imagine he was alone; barely a sound of breathing came from Caleb, an arms breadth away. Something in his chest deflated, and he found himself, for once, wanting to speak the truth. Maybe it was his exhaustion, the recurring nightmares never seemed to cease when ignored and brushed away. Maybe speaking them out loud would let his mind realize how stupid it was to be stressed over. 

His voice, a graveled whisper, spoke to no one. He merely allowed the listening to hear.

“There’s someone in the dreams I’ve been having. Everything’s distorted and hazy. It’s usually back before I joined the circus, just waking up.”

Caleb now opened an eye, turning his head to watch Mollymauk speak. His purple skin looking darker in the low sepia glow of the light spell. His eyebrows, not quite knit, but an anxiety sullened his features, cast dramatic. The sight stops him peeking, starts him looking, both eyes heavy but focused, nowhere but Molly to look.

“It wont help me, it wants me lost. It wants me to feel-” Mollymauk bit his tongue. Something about the word felt private. It was a word of his beginning, of his weakness and fear. In it, he realized why the dreams hurt him so much. Reliving his first memories, his first thoughts, his first anxieties. But here, he doesn’t find his happy little circus family. He finds nothing. He feels nothing.

For a heavy moment, there is silence. Without the forethought, Caleb let his arm fall to the side, reaching across to softly touch the clenched up purple fingers nearly poking holes into the quilt in their grasp.

At the touch, Molly melts, the bit back word slipping from his tongue like silk, pooling on the floor with the rest of his mess.

“Empty.”

Caleb’s touch tightened into a grip, his bandaged hand holding a steady pressure to the back of Molly’s tattooed one. Caleb watched the smallest smile fight its way to Molly’s cheeks, and red eyes open to meet his own.   
“You are not empty, Mollymauk. Do not let a nightmare trick you. You are full of so much.”

Molly let out a small bark of a laugh, whispering back. “Bullshit.”

Caleb nodded, stone-faced serious. “Yes. So much bullshit.”

This gets a proper laugh from Mollymauk, scrunching his nose and shaking his head. He wiggled his hand, freeing it from Caleb’s grasp to wind his fingers properly in between Caleb’s own. 

Caleb’s eyes dropped, looking intently now at the warm soft weave of digits between the pair. He had held plenty of hands before, but the interlacing felt rather intimate. Closer. It made his ears buzz and his mind pull away. Molly’s voice drifted in from what seemed like a distance now, his intense focus moments before suddenly waning from conversation, to this.

“You care.” Mollymauk spoke not a question, but a statement. 

“Of course I care.” The accusation softly bouncing at the back of Caleb’s attention. A foolish and obvious statement. 

“For me?” 

That one came as a question, and Caleb blinked at that, unsure how to reply. He looked back up to the tiefling, both men now wearing expressions unreadable. His tongue darted out nervously, wetting his dry and chapped lips. He began to fully understand why his mind fizzled and his tongue twisted around Mollymauk. Why he was uncomfortable, yes, but so willing to tiptoe in and comfort Mollymauk’s troubled mind. Would he have truly stayed if it were Fjord, or Beau, tossing in their sleep? He had woken them both at least once from a nightmare. But this group didn’t talk about the personal, emotional stuff. It was just how they were. Yet he laid in Molly’s bed, returning to him, to promise him that things would be alright once the sun rose again. He cared for no one but Nott like this. But here he was. Caring.

“Yes.” Caleb breathed, “Rather deeply, I think.”

Molly pulled his hand away; a panic suddenly striking through Caleb at the revoked contact. Molly sat up, swinging his legs around to get up off the bed. He didn’t leave, however. Instead he kneeled his way over beside Caleb proper. The wizard watched his slender body shift, dark skin moving like divinity in the glow of the room, enchanted. A peacock feathered elbow placed itself above the crook of Caleb’s neck where he laid, a clawed hand lightly scraping his nape on the other side. 

“Stop me.” Molly whispered as he slowly dipped, giving the wizard his chance to escape. He was so certain Caleb would run, he almost didn’t know what to do when he didn’t.

Caleb breathed heavily from his nose at the warm air slipping across his left cheek; lips dusting Mollymauk’s as they froze for a moment, both waiting for the other to call chicken, both just out of reach. 

Surprising himself, it was Caleb who moved, reaching up a fraction of an inch to nip at Molly’s lower lip, pulling him down into his kiss. Electric, Caleb’s chest swelled with a gasp, Mollymauk’s wicked tongue taking no time to explore.

Caleb tasted like ash and honeyed mead. Burnt, bitter, and intoxicating. His lights faltered as his focus waned, but Mollymauk didn’t mind being thrown into nothing but moonlight. It was exciting, as Molly pulled away, to look down on Caleb panting and wide-eyed, his human vision lost to the darkness. 

Moving his leg to straddle over Caleb’s thighs properly, Molly took a moment to run his fingers up Caleb’s nape, lightly scratching, tipping his head up just enough to kiss the scratchy stubble of his neck, along his jaw, his cheekbone and temple and eyelid and the broken crook of his nose. Molly reflected for a moment, brushing his nose against Caleb’s. This wasn’t a man he wanted to fool around with, and have a good time. This was Caleb Widogast. The idiot who was in his room trying to comfort him out of a nightmare. This was Caleb, who was probably more broken and fucked up than any of their little group. And suddenly Mollymauk found that he just wanted to cradle this face, that just told him he _cared_ for him, _deeply_. This struck him as a very cautious trust, not to break. 

Molly wasn’t even aware Caleb could care for him like that. The wizard had two loves, to his knowledge: his books, and Nott. Peppering him with appreciation, Molly wondered if perhaps he could be a third. From the way Caleb grabbed him around the waist, and pulled him back to his lips, Molly’s odds were turning out fairly good. 

Stories and bad dreams forgotten, the pair were happily comfortable to sink into one another, deep, languid kisses shared like neither needed air to breathe. Caleb’s lips bloomed pink under Molly’s assault of teeth, little fangs knowing their limits, mindful of chapped delicate skin. Mollymauk’s hands cradled Caleb’s head, lightly grasping at the straw-like auburn tangle that fell like a mane. His hair had grown so long, Molly hadn’t even noticed with the way it was normally tied back.

Caleb ran his hands up Molly’s sides, sending goosebumps rippling across the tiefling’s skin. Molly pressed his whole weight down onto Caleb, chests flush like they begged to be closer. Molly dropped his head to Caleb’s shoulder, giving Caleb an opening to bite at the tip of a pointed ear. Molly whined at the sensation. Not many went for the ear, the way his horns curled protectively around them became intimidating for the casual partners he shared time with, if not just awkward. But Caleb kissed him softly, the feeling of hot breath tingling up his spine. Everything moved so slow, like time was thick and meaningless. Caleb pressed a firm kiss to Molly’s temple as he lifted his head to look at his wizard again. 

Mollymauk shook his head, searching for words. “You…”

“Should go.” Caleb supplied, eyes heavy with adoration, and the hour. His gaze shifted between Molly’s bruised lips, and his dark red eyes. “Nott is expecting me back.” He pushed himself up under Molly, bringing the tiefling to sit in his lap. 

“I think I should be the one expecting you back, Mister Caleb.” Molly ran his claws against Caleb’s scalp, brushing his hair back. The other hand softly pressed to his neck, thumb dipping across Caleb’s lower lip, earning him a delicate kiss to the tip of it. Caleb leaned his head into the touch, eyes shut in regret of having to leave.   
Molly rolled himself off of Caleb, reclining back into his original spot in the bed before he was awoken. Caleb took his time standing, pulling himself away from Mollymauk’s warm, tantalizing skin. He pressed one more kiss to Molly’s lips, deep, promising this was not the last he would give. He stepped away, hand on the doorknob.

“What are you going to tell Nott?” Molly teased, face hot with delight. Caleb hummed, opening the door.

“That you are actually a terrible sap.” Molly let out a dramatic groan, as Caleb continued, “And that you have recurring dreams where all of your teeth fall out, and it’s very disturbing, because you value your pretty mouth so much.”

“So you think my mouth is pretty?” Molly batted his eyes, mocking the indirect compliment. Caleb smiled, in the way that made the corners of his eyes crinkle when he rolled them. He shut the door behind him softly, leaving Mollymauk with a quiet bid goodnight. 

Molly tucked himself down into the bed, feeling heavy and boneless, unafraid of whatever dreams carried him into sunrise.


End file.
